


Five Firsts

by Auri_P



Category: Call of Duty, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, This is just a series of drabbles, and turns out it's domestic, let them be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:33:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8674669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auri_P/pseuds/Auri_P
Summary: Five first for Simon and Gary neither knew they wanted so bad.





	1. First Kiss

The Rec Room was dark, engulfed in shadows at four am. It was empty, all lights turned off, had been since one am. Empty except for one person, dark except for the dim light of the kindle. The stillness of night set heavy over the room, the quiet except for the deep breaths, mesmerizing.

Ghost idly tapped the border to turn the page of the book, eyes skimming over the words in a rapid fashion. It wasn’t half bad, the novel. Better off reading that than Dan Brown. Better off reading than sitting quiet. Better off sitting quiet than sleeping. Or trying to. Things like that were in vain anyway.

He probably would spend the next week or so sitting here, on the black corner couch, in the middle of the night when the whole base slept. Ran out of sleeping pills again, and he wasn’t about to try to convince the doctors into giving him a new set. They wouldn’t do it anyway. Would rather have him try without, risk dying out there because of sleep deprivation.

_Did you really expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections?_

Scoffing, Ghost read on, both surprised and taken aback. So this is what cheek looked like. Damn that Elizabeth chick knew how to defend herself.

His peaceful and surprisingly pleasant time reading was brought to a halt by the creak of a door. A narrow beam of light ventured into the room as someone stood at the door, holding it ajar, peeking in. Glad he hadn’t taken off the mask and shades, Ghost melted into the couch, hoping whoever disturbed him would leave.

Yet it turned out to be the one person who never knew how to leave him alone. Roach. Gary fucking Sanderson, the fresh-faced, young Sergeant. Who kept, almost as a testimonial to the nickname, bugging him to the ends of the Earth. Too many times had those brown eyes gazed into his own blue through the red-tinted glasses, full of unspoken words Ghost didn’t want to hear.

No way would he get peace now.

Roach stepped in, closing the door behind him. The room was dark again, almost, the glow of Ghost’s kindle persisting. A deep sigh escaped the Lieutenant. The quiet seemed to weigh him down, like the weight of the world had been placed on his shoulders. In a way it had been, hadn’t it? Ever since Roba, his whole world had quite literally relied on him making it out alive.

Steps light, Ghost saw how Roach trailed over the backrest of the couch, eyes gleaming a little. Too bad the couch was big enough for a whole lot of people. Staring at Roach tiredly, Ghost clicked off the screen on the kindle. He wasn’t going to read with someone present. Especially with Roach present.

“Can’t sleep?”

How that question angered him. No, he was reading just for fun at four am, knowing fully well each morning started with an hour of PT. In fact, it was so much fun he did it for weeks on end, every time he ran out of pills to take.

Instead of the snark, Ghost shook his head slightly, dropping his gaze to his hands, still gripping the small, black device. The darkness seemed too dark without the white light from it. He could no longer see Roach’s face properly. Just the outlines, the shape of his nose, chin. Those lips.

“Figured. Do you ever sleep?”

“Sometimes.”

His mumbling was muffled further by the balaclava, barely audible even in the complete silence. Roach was sitting on the other end of the couch, legs crossed, facing him. There was something so annoying there. How Gary would come and pester him, talk and talk for hours, but get nothing said. No wonder Ghost was reading Austen.

“I’m worried.”

“About?”

Watching Roach fidget was annoying. Wasn’t that hard to say what you were thinking. Words were simple. You formed them out of letters. Then you put them together in a certain order to make a sentence. Then you used your vocal chords to produce sound and say whatever the hell you had on your mind. Not that hard.

“You. How you never seem to sleep. How you isolate yourself like this. It ain’t fun.”

“Fun?”

Anger seeped into his voice, and Ghost’s hands gripped the kindle tighter. Fun? Really. That’s the most important thing to come up with this? Fun? Who the fuck cared about fun? He wasn’t here to have fun, he was here to do the job, whatever it took. The notion that his problems were only important because they weren’t fun was insulting at best. It made his blood boil.

“For you, I mean. It’s shit, and I wish you’d let me help.”

That was a little better. Looked like Roach had his best interests at heart, even if he felt like scorning those altogether. Since when had people actually cared anyway. Not that Ghost let them care. He’d rather squash those feelings out of people as soon as they arose by being the biggest asshole he could be. That’s where the mask and shades got in handy too.

“And how exactly would you help huh?”

The words came out as a snarl, louder than he intended. Maybe more hurtful than he intended. Roach meant well, even if he wasn’t the most eloquent on the team. Fucking bug. Despite all the nagging and the annoying, Ghost couldn’t find it in himself to push Roach away, not really. He hated to admit it with all his heart, but Roach had somehow managed to scuttle his way in. And now Ghost was left with a sweet spot the size of an ocean for the Sergeant.

“I could listen. Talk with you. Just be there.”

Ghost could suddenly distinguish the white of Roach’s teeth, his mouth slightly open. Eyes trained on him. He sighed, heavy and closed his eyes. It was starting to sound like Roach was finally finding his courage, making a move. This was probably his last chance of putting an end to this, before it was too late.

“And what makes you think you could?”

Roach looked slightly taken aback. Probably didn’t understand the question. That settled it. How easy. Ghost didn’t even have to make a choice.

“Because I care. About you. It’s not my fault if you’re too blind to see it, Simon, but I care.”

Ghost was perplexed. That was his name, rolling off Roach’s tongue like it belonged to him. Like it had a place in that mouth. Like it belonged in that sentence. Deserved to be spoken softly in that earnest, vulnerable tone. Roach had gathered his courage. And Ghost had to make a choice after all.

“And you think I care about you too?”

Ghost felt surprisingly calm. He didn’t bother getting his expectations up, disappointment always came in one form or another. Roach would be no different, despite his persistence. Americans and their sentimentality.

“I know you do. If it were anyone but me sitting here, with you, right now, you would have pushed them out faster than I can shoot.”

Roach’s voice was strong with confidence and challenge. So much for not being able to say what he was thinking. The Sergeant seemed very capable of speaking. Even too much so. Determination written on his face, overridden with shadows. Ghost wanted to punch something.

“Who says I won’t push you out right now?”

Roach shrugged and stayed silent, having said what he wanted to. Without realizing it, Ghost had lost. Lost to the bloody bug sitting in front of him, steady as a rock, adamant like a diamond. Annoying as hell. What to do now?

The silence stretched on. Roach was obviously waiting for Ghost to make a move, that much the Lieutenant knew. Everything beyond that was shrouded in mist. What did he want to do? Part of him wanted to push Gary away, forever away, and keep living in splendid isolation, but part of him wanted to accept what the Sergeant had said as true.

That part wanted him to give in. Give up. Accept the feelings festering in his chest and act on them, like he had dreamed of doing. That part wanted him to let Gary in and be with him. Because that’s what Roach was suggesting. That’s what his eyes were screaming every time Ghost glanced in them. An extended hand to lift him up from under the rubble. That was Gary.

But it left him with a choice to make between the two battling parts of himself. The old and the new Simon. Someone he didn’t really want to consult much. The ocean-sized soft spot he had for Roach however was pleading with him to say yes. Quite like the oceans themselves, it was lapping up everything else and drowning it, washing every surface clean. So he could start over.

“You’re right.”

He whispered. Suddenly afraid of everything. What if Gary rejected him after all? How ironic would it be if this was some long running gag along the members of the one-four-one, who would be the first to get Ghost to lower his defensive walls. The first to glimpse at something human in the shadow.

Roach ducked his head, hiding his features from Simon. The atmosphere shifted, and the darkness felt electric and scary. A long lost echo of his childhood home, Ghost fought to keep the fear at bay. He wasn’t afraid of that anymore. Everyone who had hurt him was dead.

“I know.”

Gary’s words brought his focus back to present. The couch creaked as Roach shifted, moving forward. He was closing the distance between them, Ghost realized. Until he was right before Simon, sitting by him. The backrest gave in where he leaned, next to Simon’s hip. Legs drawn up to his chest, crossed at the shins. Gary looked so mesmerizing and calm.

Simon swallowed and waited for whatever was in store for him next. Gary was going to have to help him. He didn’t know how to do this at all. Ghost was good on the battlefield, not in his own head. Not with knowing his own feelings. But if he were to believe what Roach had said, he was in good hands. Not completely sure if he wanted to place himself there, but if he had to, then maybe he could trust Roach.

“You don’t trust me. It’s fine.”

Simon tried to look for the accusation in Gary’s statement, but he couldn’t find any. It was a statement. Not an accusation. He wasn’t used to this at all. And he did want to trust Gary. After all he had never given any reason not to. So why go looking to start a fire, when you could clean away the ashes.

“No… I do.”

He was as surprised as Roach was to hear himself murmur those words. He hadn’t realized they’d left his lips. But they were true, nonetheless. Simon was glad he’d said them out loud, given Gary something back. Ghost had taken the hand he was offering. Now all that was left was to pull him up out of the rubble.

“Can I see you?”

“You’re looking at me.”

Gary’s chuckle was soft and like music to Simon’s ears. It helped him ease up. Gary probably deserved to see him. And if they were really doing this, if Ghost was really doing this, it would work best if the mask and shades came off. He could do that. Be brave without them. Remember they weren’t a part of him.

“Yes. You can.”

Gary nodded slowly in the darkness and Simon held his breath. Gary’s surprisingly nimble hands pulled off the shades, and as they were removed the room lightened some. Simon could see Gary better now and he liked what he saw. Those lips slightly parted, the gleam of his teeth. His brown eyes that normally looked like molten toffee mixed with honey, dark now in the night. There was a cut on Gary’s lower lip, well on its way healing.

Simon’s eyes trailed over Gary’s movements as he set the glasses aside on the coffee table soundlessly and carefully. Gary was oh so careful. The nimble hands returned to hover on the sides of his face, almost hesitating, before they moved lower to pick on the edge of the balaclava.

Simon felt his breath catch in his throat as Gary started rolling the fabric upward over his jaw. This really was it, wasn’t it? He was falling fast. Gary’s fingers briefly brushed over his cheek as they lifted the mask higher, and Simon’s eyes fluttered at the contact. Nobody had touched his face ever since he’d joined the one-four-one. At least nobody he’d cared about.

The mask was pulled away by Gary, smoothed out and laid on the table next to the tinted shades. Gary turned to face him for real, eyes flying over his face, studying it. Simon felt nervous. He knew what he looked like. He knew the scars were bad and he knew he was as pale as a ghost. But instead of disgust or fright, he was greeted by Gary’s crinkling eyes and charming smile.

He was confused, that much was fair to say. Nobody had looked at him like that since Roba. He wasn’t sure if anyone had actually looked at him like that. Gary’s eyes were locked in his, he was staring into the brown of them, wondering if he would drown in this feeling. He felt like he belonged.

“Can’t figure for the life of me why you hide.”

The words no louder than a whisper, more like a breath of fresh air. Gary was staring at him like he was the world, the sun, and the stars. But it was Gary who was all those things, surely. Nobody could deny it, that those eyes were as beautiful as the sky on a sunny morning in mid-July, as deep as the starry night in the middle of December. And the way he grinned, a little crooked, made Simon feel like he was floating.

“Don’t lie.”

Gary didn’t flinch, didn’t frown. He let the comment slide off his back unperturbed. Simon was left wondering how anyone could be like that. Let things go, fall on deaf ears. He hoped to learn that from Gary.

“I’m not. You have the prettiest eyes I’ve seen.”

Gary’s hands found his own, grip loose around the kindle. They slipped between, holding them together. It felt right. Like it was meant to be this way. Gary played with his fingers, studied them, ran his thumbs over the backs of Simon’s hands. The complete opposite of Simon’s, Gary’s hands were warm. The contact felt nice.

“Thanks.”

The word felt foreign in his mouth. It didn’t carry enough meaning. It was insufficient to say what he wanted to say to Gary. Words were just strings of letters. Sentences were strings of words. And they were insufficient. He couldn’t get the feelings out there in a way that felt right.

“So… I’ve already gone ahead and confessed to caring for you, liking you. I’m left wondering…”

“Whether I like you too.”

Gary nodded, smiling slightly. He was looking a bit nervous, Simon noted with pleasure. They were on even footing, and that’s all he asked for. Simon wanted only to be equal, after being inferior for so long. Not that people usually saw it that way. He rarely let himself realize it.

“Well, it’s like I said, you were right. I do care for you. And I do like you. More than I let on.”

Gary’s sparkling eyes found his own and the grip on his hands tightened momentarily. Simon watched Gary shift again, sit up straighter and higher than before. His hands let go of Simon’s, the loss of contact unleashed a pang of sadness. Until they were cupping his cheeks, warmth spreading.

“Enough for this?”

Simon focused on how Gary was chewing on his lip in his nervous state. He knew the feeling, was feeling it now. And he had an answer for Gary.

“Enough for this.”

Gary’s hands moved a little, to cover more area as he leaned in, closer and closer. Simon felt his breath mixing with Gary’s, the sensation of it on his lips. Gary gazed into his eyes, so close now. Simon could distinguish each fleck of lighter brown among the darker hues, like silk threads woven in. He could see how long Gary’s lashes were, how thick and dark. He could see the light freckles spread on Gary’s cheeks. How beautiful.

Slowly he closed the distance between them, Gary leaning on his legs, almost leaning over him, head tilted. Simon’s hands sinking in the sofa cushions, as he held himself upright. The press of Gary’s lips on his. The incredible softness of them. The sweet scent, the sugary taste. Gary had probably been eating something sweet again.

It felt so damn good. The way Gary seemed to melt right against him, the way his hands stayed gently on both sides of Simon’s face. The way he kissed. Only to pull away and look deep in Simon’s eyes again. Simon could feel a smile spreading on his lips, and he saw it mirrored on Gary’s face.

Then he leaned back in, pressed their lips together, moving in sync. Gary kept it gentle, kept it sweet. He kept it from becoming overwhelming, which Simon was grateful for. He needed time too. Not that they had rushed anything. Truthfully, they hadn’t.

Simon found himself wanting more, found he wasn’t panicking. And he wasn’t scared, or disturbed, or feeling out of place. This is where he belonged, for now. With Gary leaning in his lap, hands on his cheeks. He reached out to tangle a hand in Gary’s short sandstone colored hair, the other finding Gary’s waist.

Understanding the cues, Gary let his tongue brush against Simon’s lower lip. Simon parted his lips, letting Gary deepen the kiss, almost moaning at the strength of the feelings that arose with it. Shit, he hadn’t felt like this for so long. Gary’s tongue sliding against his, the increasing press of their lips, it was all he’d been dreaming of. And more. It was better, Simon realized, so much better.

Out of breath, Gary put some distance between them, hands moving to run through Simon’s hair. Simon took the opportunity to touch Gary’s face, run his fingers along Gary’s cheekbone, along his jaw, marvel at how he was allowed to be here, breathe the same air, literally.

“Hey there handsome.”

He laughed at the blush creeping on Gary’s cheeks, visible even in the dark. It made him happier than he could imagine. Having the right kind of power over Gary. Not the cruel, dangerous, violent kind. But the sweet, caring, happy kind.

“Hey yourself.”

Gary climbed to sit on his lap, legs wound around his hips grounding him like an anchor grounds a ship. He rested his elbows on Simon’s shoulders, fingers still tangled in the dark mess of his hair. Simon smiled widely, leaning in to kiss Gary again. It would be hard to stop, now that they had started.

Mouths moving in sync, Simon let his tongue wander, licking Gary’s lower lip, surprised to find Gary gasping as it ran over the partly healed cut. Before he could detach and make sure Gary was fine, the Sergeant pushed back with more roughness and force, enough to thump Simon’s back against the sofa’s backrest.

Simon purred at the increasing heat, hands travelling back to Gary’s hips, pressing him down. Moving faster, Gary’s tongue thrust in his mouth, slick and wet. He groaned as Gary nicked at his lower lip, with enough force to send a rush of adrenaline through him, not enough to draw blood. He guided Gary’s hips, angled them better, and the next time Gary ground into him, he got to reap the benefits as Gary moaned loudly.

“Wanna continue this someplace else?”

Gary’s breath was a little labored as he kept moving, hands flittering to grab Simon by the front of his hoodie. As tempting as it sounded, he didn’t want to move. Not just yet.

“A little while longer. Then I’ll follow you to the ends of the Earth, if you want me to.”

Gary smiled, breathtakingly beautiful, and leaned to kiss Simon again. It was like waking up from a dream to a better reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, this is ironically enough my first publication even though I have 94k fic written for these two. Honestly, I'm just starting out with writing, but I hope y'all liked it. There's more to come gradually, as I struggle with plot and simply want to write. If there's something you'd like to see, please do tell. I'm afraid I'll run out of ideas.


	2. First infirmary visit

Ghost woke up with a pounding headache, hammering away at the edges of his skull. Groaning, he tried to sit up. Something was protruding from his arm. Ghost willed away the last remnants of his sleep, or had he simply been unconscious, and focused on his surroundings.

He was in the infirmary, he realized, no other place would have a bed so big or soft. The curtains were a dead giveaway too, a dirty mint green used at every hospital he’d ever been to. Looking around, Ghost realized he was hooked to an IV. The monitor was beeping steadily, making him feel nauseous. He wanted nothing more than to rip the needle out and make the bloody beeping stop.

They had had a mission, up in the mountains, and it blew in the team’s face. Ghost had got shot. A .44 to the stomach didn’t feel too nice. He had a feeling he’d been lying here for longer than a day. The wound was sore, but not painfully so. He figured he was still pumped full of morphine.

The details were blurry. He couldn’t remember anything properly. Things had been hectic and a lot of people had died. He’d shot almost as many men as he had when he infiltrated Roba’s compound. That time he hadn’t got shot.

But the same man had come to pick him up afterwards. General Shepherd had flown in on his fancy Pave Low to take all the glory. Not this time though. Fuck him. The rhythmic beeping was making his headache worse.

Ghost scoffed, preferring not to go over the details of the last mission. He was sure nobody important had been with him. Soap and Price had flown to Afghanistan, and he had no way of knowing what had happened to them. Better not to think about it.

Leaning against the headboard of the bed, Ghost closed his eyes and focused on the headache. It came from sleeping for so long.

Something was constantly on the tip of his tongue, skulking on the edges of his mind. He couldn’t grasp it. Ghost balled his hands in fists, feeling his muscles tense. It felt wrong. He’d forgotten something. He never forgot anything. But this time he had.

He wanted to talk to someone. He needed Gary to be here with him, now. Getting shot brought back unpleasant memories and the only person he trusted with those memories was Gary. Too bloody bad he wasn’t able to move before a nurse or a doctor checked him out of the infirmary. And he didn’t know where Gary was.

Slowly but surely, Ghost felt himself sink back into bed under the covers. He was feeling sleepy thanks to the morphine. And the gunshot wound. Overcome by his tiredness, Ghost fell asleep.

>><< 

“You gotta let me in to see him.”

“You’re supposed to be resting Sergeant.”

“Yeah, yeah, I will. Just… please?”

Ghost woke up to raised voices outside his room. By the sound of it, right outside his door. He smirked, it had been a while since people had been fighting over him. He knew one of those voices anyway. Roach was standing outside his door.

He heard the clank of the handle, as the heavy door was pushed open. Half-expecting the doctor to appear and leave Gary standing in the hallway, he sat up to face the door. He was pleasantly surprised. Ghost didn’t have many of those times to tally up.

“Hey.”

Simon watched the emotions play on Gary’s face, the way the sad smile spread on his lips, how his eyes crinkled slightly. There were cuts and scratches on his face and hands. Dark circles under his eyes. What had happened to Gary?

Shit. He’d forgotten. Blanked out. Gary had been with him, by his side on that mission. How the hell had he managed to forget that too? Simon really needed to get his head together. But more importantly, what was Gary doing walking around the infirmary with wounds like his?

“Hey.”

The words sounded strained and Ghost frowned at his own voice. It sounded unnatural, somehow distant. His ears were ringing slightly. Gary hesitated before walking over to his bed and sitting on it. The soft mattress dipped under his weight. Simon moved, making room for the Sergeant.

Gary lifted his legs up with considerable difficulty. Simon felt helpless at the face of Gary’s pain. He knew hardly how to deal with his own issues, Gary needed someone more stable to talk to. But the goddamn bug wouldn’t take no for an answer. He honestly though whatever little Ghost had to offer was good advice. Bullcrap.

“How’s the hole in your stomach doing?”

Despite the shit from almost a week ago, and the obvious sleep deprivation and the unavoidable trauma, Gary was attempting at humor. How the hell? Simon knew he couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t make light of the situation. It was a long way to recovery.

“It’s fine.”

Even his own voice betrayed him. Simon felt annoyed by how soft he’d gotten ever after Gary had become more and more ingrained in his life. Gary had been right on all accounts that one night. Simon begrudgingly, more or less, agreed that talking had helped and that it was so much better being with Gary than alone. But sharing didn’t come to him naturally anymore. If it ever had. Gary hummed in response. Something was definitely wrong. Simon felt it.

“I want out.”

Ghost cast his eyes on Gary from the sheets, scared to find tears dangling on his lower lashes. They looked like they were going to roll down any moment now. Gary’s face was completely calm, serene. He didn’t look ready to break down and his voice didn’t falter. He was still the same Gary.

“What do you mean bug?”

Simon sought out Gary’s hand, twined their fingers. He frowned at the sight of the white gauze covering the Sergeant’s hands. Just another scar Gary would have to carry with him. It was sad, the way they’d been pushed on him all at once. Instead of letting them accumulate in time, as he grew older, they were forced on him.

“I want out. I don’t want to do this anymore, I can’t. Every time I close my eyes I see him standing there, looming over me. Throwing that fucking cigar at me.”

Simon clenched his teeth together and pulled Gary closer. The way his voice cracked under sudden pressure made Ghost want to empty a magazine in someone’s head. And it made him unbearably sad too. He knew Gary meant leaving the task force for a civilian life, and that was the one place he wouldn’t be able to follow. He wasn’t made out for civilian life. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself, how to live a life.

Simon didn’t know what to say. Words were made of letters, sentences were strings of words. And actions spoke louder than words. He wrapped his arms around Gary, letting the Sergeant rest his head against the crook of Simon’s neck. He felt the tears soak his skin, and Gary crumbled in the embrace. It was all foreign to him.

“Say something. Please.”

Gary’s words caught Simon off-guard. Say what? Something consoling, something heartfelt. Poetic. Impossible for him. He didn’t know how to… think those things. Simon ran a thumb along the back of Gary’s neck, feeling the short hair.

“You’re gonna be fine, bug. Won’t let anyone hurt you. I-“

He felt so uncertain speaking. The words sounded so ineloquent and sharp on his tongue, like they belonged to someone else. Gary was sniffling a little, returning the hold Simon had on him.

“I’m- Shit. Gary it’s going to be hard. Fucking difficult. You’ve seen me, and ‘m not doing well. A lot better with you by my side, but still. I’ll ty to be here for you, but I can’t if you leave.”

Simon hated the way the words sounded. But he couldn’t lie to Gary, and he was done lying to himself. There was no way he was leaving the task force. If only Gary would find it in himself not to leave. Stay. As selfish as it was of Simon, he wanted Gary to stay with him. 

He felt Gary’s weak nod against his shoulder. It made him feel so much worse. There was no more fight left in Gary and Simon hated it. It had been kicked out of him, burnt with fire and gasoline.

“No. This ain’t for people like you and me. It’s for men like Price and Soap, people who have the… the luxury of- of staying unaffected. Level enough for this. If you can make it stop, make it stop. Leave. Come with me. Simon come with me.”

“I can’t.”

He felt Gary’s tears dapple his shoulder again as his own voice faltered and failed. Simon couldn’t do this. He couldn’t say goodbye to Gary, not yet. Not after only a month together. It was too short a time for them to be together. He didn’t want to give it up. Gary was forcing him to.

Simon leant back to look at Gary. Goddamn he didn’t want to leave. He needed some more time to process this, Simon sighed, realizing. He needed some more light in the darkness before going back to pitch black. The way Gary’s eyes were slightly red around the edges and the way his lip was constantly threatening to bust open again made Simon falter in his stance, like a leaf swaying in the wind.

Gary leaned in while pulling Simon closer. Their breaths mixed, and soon Simon felt the soft press of Gary’s bloodied lips on his own. He found cruel solace in the fact that they would soon have matching scars, running across the upper lip. But that wouldn’t matter either, if Gary was going to leave him.

Returning the kiss, Simon felt desperate. He needed to pour his heart and soul into here and now, just to let Gary know how he was feeling. If this was to be their last time together, properly, then he needed every second of it to be real. He needed every second of it to count.

And he could feel what Gary was going through. The way he hesitated slightly when Simon parted his lips. The way he was constantly switching between pulling back and pressing in harder. The way a few last tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Simon no…”

He stared into Gary’s eyes, hands still on the Sergeant’s neck and back. Simon felt he might choke at the face of what he saw there. It was the same expression Roach wore on missions, fear and sadness pushed to the back of his skull so they wouldn’t show. Despite the gentle tone of Gary’s voice, Simon knew this was the end.

“I can’t do this. I have to leave. I- I’m sorry.”

Simon let his hands drop as Gary rose from the bed with surprising grace. He felt cold, colder than he had in a long time. As cold as the grave. Gary’s behavior angered him. It shocked him, how… fragile everything had been. What a coward Gary was. He would never have guessed that of Roach.

“Then leave. Go.”

Simon let on his coldest voice, and he tried not to care about the hurt it caused in Roach. He was done with all of it, the playing house part of life. Ghost needed to focus on recovery, not on what the likes of Roach would do. It wasn’t his problem. The Sergeant would take care of it wherever he went to. Wherever he left for. Hell, maybe he even had someone else waiting for him.

Ghost stared at Gary’s hurt expression as the Sergeant turned on his heel and headed for the door. Everything in the way he walked screamed at Simon to go back, take back what he said, and leave with Gary. But he shut those feelings out and ruled them as weaknesses to be avoided. Anything to stay alive. That was the most important part.

The door shut with a click and Gary didn’t turn back to look at him.

>><< 

Ghost woke up from a recurring nightmare covered in a sheen of sweat. It was nothing new. The feeling of maggots crawling on your skin, the stench of rotting flesh. The never-ending darkness and the dirt that got in your lungs and made you panic. Ghost knew all of those things very well. And he would gladly take this nightmare over any others he’d been having ever since.

He would rather feel death creep in from the cracks, rather than scuttle in to take someone he loved. He would rather be left buried alive with a rotting corpse than see the muzzle flash of Shepherd’s .44 as Roach fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Ghost didn’t want to relive those moments, because he had no way of knowing whether Gary was still… somewhere alive. He felt like if he dreamed them enough, they would come true.

His mind reeled back to a conversation he had with Gary a few days before the fateful mission. The seed of doubt Gary had ingrained in his mind, left to grow as he left. And it was growing at a too fast pace for Ghost to cut it down, and it was too strong to wither. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he would need to act soon. And he knew what he wanted to do.

Groaning, Ghost got up from his bed and padded across the dark room to the desk. The clock on the table was blinking 0547 at him. Soap would already be awake by now. The abdominal wound ached dully every morning. He got used to it.

Ghost opened the closet and grabbed the black, army issue duffel bag and started throwing in the little he had brought with him to the task force. He needed an address.

The dim lighting of the hallway reminded him of the tunnel he always used to walk through on his way home from school. The lights flickered slightly and the dirt clung to the lamps. Yellow and wet and dirty, he never wanted to spend too long looking at them. The cars went swooshing past overhead and his steps echoed in the night.

Soap’s room was down the corridor, furthest away from the mess hall and rec room. He was the head of the house after all. Ghost heard the dull thud of his steps ring in his ears. They had been ringing ever since Gary left. Drawing in a shaky breath through the fabric of the balaclava, Ghost knocked on the Captain’s door.

It took Soap only approximately thirty seconds to answer the door, eyes as sharp as ever. Ghost brushed past him into the room, noting he might have actually woken up the Captain after all. The bedsheets were rumpled and Soap himself looked sleepy otherwise.

“What do you need Riley?”

“Gary’s address.”

Ghost held his ground as Soap surveilled him with utmost distrust. It made him frown. Had Gary said something to Soap before his departure? The look Soap had plastered on his face told Simon something was wrong.

That made him angry too. Great. Fantastic. The one moment he felt he could leave the task force, once and for all, he was kept from leaving. By Gary of all people, the one man who wanted him to leave. Simon was frustrated. He wasn’t in control of his own situation. He had people like Soap and Gary manipulating him and he didn’t want any of it.

“He told me to give it to you, just in case. I don’t know if I should Riley. He was pretty badly shaken up the last I saw him.”

Soap looked weary, definitely, and Simon could see the shadows in his sharp blue eyes. He wasn’t trustworthy? Was that the problem? Gary had told the Captain to pass on the address so what was the fucking problem?

As Soap stared at him and waited for an answer, Simon realized he felt guilty. Oh, so guilty. Ashamed of his reaction back in the infirmary, and the way he had been acting for the last couple of weeks. Like a complete asshole. He had given Soap no real reason to trust him again. Yelling at people who even walked too near, issuing tougher punishments, and extra PT. No, the entire team had a reason to hate his guts. But it hadn’t mattered, because Gary hadn’t been there anyway.

Simon had done some thinking, and he still was trying to sort his feelings out. But he had realized it was him that was the coward, not Gary. Gary had needed time, and he had wanted to get a life of his own that involved… less dying and killing. Simon had been too scared to realize he was allowed to have that too. And leaving with Gary didn’t mean leaving indefinitely did it now? He could give it a try, couldn’t he. See how things would pan out.

“I’m sorry. Got in pretty deep. But he told you to give it to me right? Soap, don’t intervene in my business.”

“What if you’re gonna go in there to beat him up?”

“I’m not.”

His voice strained with the barely contained anger he was holding in. That was a low ball even for Soap. Simon wasn’t going to go and hurt Gary. He would play nice from now on, and he would explain himself to Gary. Not to bloody Soap who had no business knowing anything about his life.

“And how do I know that?”

“I’m going in there to kiss him you fool.”

The look on Soap’s face was a small recompense for the personal revelation Simon made. It was too bad Soap was too stupid to realize things on his own. Maybe if he had known Simon would have gotten the address sooner. Groaning, he waited.

Soap was shifting through the contents of his desk until he found a slim piece of paper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intended this whole thing to be a series of stupid, pointless, plotless fluff but it turns out I don't know how to do that. So... here's some continuity? Hope y'all like it.  
> I hope to write another, maybe a little longer chapter soon, but I can't promise anything. We're heading in the right direction though, so nobody worry.


	3. First apartment

Simon felt the warm breeze ruffle his hair as he walked past the houses in the suburbs. Their flashy colors and stuffed yards kept catching his eye, throwing him off focus. Every once in a while a louder bang of a car’s exhaust pipe made him nearly dash for cover. Civilian life was not meant for him.

Simon fixed his eyes on the brass numbers on the exteriors of the small, box-like houses. His destination was near. With every step he felt his heart beat a little faster. What if Gary wouldn’t let him in? What if he would simply say no. Nothing guaranteed the Sergeant hadn’t had a change of heart in the past few weeks. 

Stopping in front of a small, yellow-bricked house, Simon held his breath and hesitated. The gate was wrought iron, and the path to the front door was laid with stone slabs of different sizes. It was uncharacteristically cute and Simon wanted to flee. He didn’t really belong in such a suburban house.

“We’re not in Kansas anymore Toto.”

Muttering under his breath, Simon pushed the gate open. It squeaked a little in need of oil. He would have to take care of that. _Wait what?_

Sighing, he walked up the stone stairs to the door, noting the withered flowers on the porch with interest. Either Gary had had nobody living in the house for a long time, or then the residents hated plants. He was personally fine with either option. They would only need to throw the flowers away. _What?_

Simon braced himself for what was to come and rang the doorbell. He could hear the sound through the door, sharp and loud. It was sure to wake up anybody sleeping. He waited in bated breath as the sound of steps echoed, dull and quiet at first, louder and clearer as Gary reached the door.

Simon took a step back as a precaution, just in time before the door was ripped open rather angrily. He felt his chest clench at the sight of Gary. Hair messier than usual, wearing only slacks and a t-shirt, he looked like he’d just been interrupted napping. Simon thought he’d never looked better. The lip had healed well, too.

Gary gaped at Simon, too shocked to say anything. It didn’t help the nervous feeling in the Lieutenant’s chest one bit, but at least he hadn’t been punched yet, right? That had to be a good sign. Simon cleared his throat and bit the bullet.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Simon felt a small smile spreading on his lips. As much as he had thought about seeing Gary again, flesh and blood, this surpassed all his imagined scenarios. The way Gary looked when he was sleepy stole the cake.

“Can I come in?”

Simon stepped inside and was immediately surprised by a sweet scent wafting from the kitchen. Goddamn bug, had a sweet tooth as every tooth. Gary was one of those people who could eat as much of whatever he wanted to without consequence.

Gary led him to the living room, a large, open space adjoined to the somewhat dated kitchen. The couch was light grey and looked like it had been slept on just recently. Simon smiled at the fluffy blanket rumpled on it. Everything looked really cozy.

Gary turned to face him, arms crossed and expression unreadable. Simon returned his stare, waiting for the sermon to begin. After this part the worst would be over and he could live with that. Gary chewed on his lip before beginning.

“So. What made you change your mind?”

“I missed you. I was behaving like a real prick on base and… I finally gathered up the courage.”

Gary sighed and sat on the couch. Simon noticed how he suddenly looked so exhausted. Was this a bad time? He probably should have called first, but he didn’t have Gary’s number. And his phone didn’t have charge in any case, he hadn’t used it on base. He hadn’t thought to charge it before his sudden departure.

Simon felt relief flood him as Gary patted the space next to him on the couch. Accepting the invitation, he sat down and set the black duffel bag on the floor. He wasn’t in the clear, not yet, but at least Gary didn’t seem too angry.

“I’m glad you came. Even if it took a lot of hesitation, I’m glad you’re here.”

He lifted his gaze from the beige mat to look at Gary. A crooked grin spreading on the Sergeant’s lips, the crinkling eyes. This was Gary, the Gary he knew. Simon had managed to do what roaches do best, not die, find a way in. Or maybe he was more like ghosts, floating in through walls and barriers. It didn’t matter anymore, he would let both go. He didn’t need them anymore.

“So am I. For the longest time, I thought it was the people who left that were the cowards. That you were one. But then I realized it was people like me, people who couldn’t find the courage to start over. I was a coward Gary. But I’m here now.”

Simon listened to the words pour out of his mouth, surprised at himself. This wasn’t like him at all. He wasn’t one to talk much. But whatever he said seemed to make Gary melt like sugar, and Simon would do anything to keep that look on Gary’s face.

“Man I suck at staying mad at people.”

The words came out more as a whisper as Gary leaned forward until he was mere centimeters away from Simon’s face. Simon’s eyes flickered over his face, over the new scar running across Gary’s lip, over the nearly healed scratches and the light freckles. God he’d missed this.

Simon leaned in until he felt Gary’s lips on his. He felt how Gary returned the kiss, pressure increasing, both of them desperate. Almost a month. That’s how long it took. Simon felt relieved it wasn’t a re-run of the last time.

Gary maneuvered himself into Simon’s lap, not breaking off the kiss for one second. He wrapped his legs around Simon’s waist, pulling him closer. Simon let his hands wander, eventually settling on wrapping them around Gary’s back and not letting go. Ever, if he had a say in it.

Gary broke off the kiss, flustered and happy. Simon felt a grin settle over his face just looking at Gary. Whatever they were, this is where he wanted to be. He knew he wanted to stay in this little box-house complete with its small garden, creaky stairs, and cozy fireplace.

“Sooo… You’ll stay?”

“Afraid so bug. I did say I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth.”

“Yeah you did.”

Simon felt Gary’s laugh vibrate as he held the Sergeant close. What had he done right to deserve such a ray of sunshine in his life, he didn’t know. As far as he was concerned all that could be tallied up at the end of the day were his mistakes and sins, but if Gary would be his, they didn’t matter. Nothing mattered if he could be together with Gary.

It was a little scary to admit to it, but Simon was determined not to go back to his old ways of living alone. His life had, truly, taken off in a completely different direction. With Gary’s fingers running in circles on his back, everything seemed pretty bloody amazing.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you were mad at me you know.”

Simon felt the fingers at his back stop completely and soon Gary wiggled his way out of Simon’s arms partly, until his eyes locked with the Lieutenant’s. Brown gazing into blue.

“Good thing I’m not, then. I really wouldn’t blame you either. I just bolted.”

Simon shook his head. No, he did understand Gary’s reaction. Getting shot by your own superior was one hell of a ride to be on. Being betrayed by your own was traumatic at best. Simon didn’t want to blame Gary for it, not anymore. He might have, in the beginning, but as the initial shock and anger subsided, he found he understood. Everyone coped differently.

“No, ‘m not. I understand.”

Gary’s lips found his own and Simon ran his tongue over the new scar. It felt smooth, and Gary’s own tongue darted to meet Simon’s, deepening the kiss. Simon let his hands stress the hem of Gary’s shirt, sort of asking for permission, before dipping under and running his hands across Gary’s bare sides. The giggle he got as response made him grin. Gary was ticklish, and it coaxed the cutest sounds out of him when Simon exploited said weakness. Or advantage. He felt lucky to hear Gary’s voice. His laugh.

“Stooop! Si-mon, come on!”

“But you’re so cute when you laugh!”

Gary’s laughter filled the room as Simon continued his attack. It was way too cute how Gary laughed, his eyes closed and scrunched up, happy tears slowly pooling up at the corners of his eyes. But soon his plan backfired as Gary managed to, somehow, gain the upper hand and trap Simon’s hands in his own, holding them tightly against his chest.

Simon chuckled happily, he was okay with this too. With Gary leaning against him, their hands pinned between their chests, everything felt so warm and bubbly. Kind of like the scent of whatever Gary had been baking. Or had he been baking?

“Mmm have you baked?”

“Yeah… Muffins. Why?”

“Smells good.”

Gary buried his head in the crook of Simon’s neck, and the Lieutenant craned his head enough to press a light kiss on the crown of his head. Everything was so serene. It was like time stopped in this little house of Gary’s. The withering plants outside on the porch made more sense if Simon kept entertaining this little illusion. Maybe time would stop for the two of them, anyway.

“C’mon, give me a house tour bug.”

After some unintelligible muttering on Gary’s part, Simon was led through the house hand in hand with Gary, the Sergeant pulling him from room to room impatiently. The kitchen was a little outdated indeed, with countertops Simon would kill to renew, but the muffins perched on the stove looked really good.

Gary led him up the stairs that did creak, like Simon had anticipated, up on to the second floor. It housed the master bedroom as well as a spare one, a bathroom and a small study. Simon adored the study, the walls were lined with bookshelves stock full of books, the lighting was surprisingly good and there was a window that let out to the street, sunlight filtering in through the foliage of the trees.

The spare bedroom hadn’t been used, that much Simon gathered from the ever-growing layer of dust on the small table perched up next to the queen-sized bed. This is where he’d sleep if Gary even let him stay, right? Definitely was in need of a good clean, but otherwise it was pretty nice.

“And, here’s the master bedroom. Wow, now you’ve seen everything. Let’s go back downstairs.”

Gary was already bolting out the door as Simon had barely stepped in to take a look. The bed was big enough for two people, easily, white linen covering the length of it. Simon frowned, it looked unslept in. He knew Gary was not one to make his bed, back on base it had looked so messy every time Simon had slipped into his room.

“No, no, no, bug, hold on a second.”

Simon grabbed Gary by the arm and turned him around so the Sergeant had to face him. What was going on here? Was Gary not sleeping properly, was he sleeping at all? It made Simon worried.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you sleeping?”

Simon grabbed Gary by the chin when the Sergeant kept avoiding his question, instead staring at the floor and shuffling his feet. A small peck on the cheek elicited a sigh out of Gary.

“You can tell me.”

Simon waited as Gary gathered his courage to admit whatever was bothering him.

“I can’t sleep, not in this room anyway. I keep having nightmares and at least downstairs I can do stuff in the middle of the night. So yeah, I sleep on the couch, mostly.”

Shit. Of course, nightmares. Simon had them nightly, himself, of course he should have anticipated Gary would have the same kind of troubles. But Gary couldn’t keep sleeping on the couch, that was too hard on his back. And the still somewhat recent gunshot wound.

“Okay. Let’s go downstairs.”

Simon observed how the tension drained out of Gary’s posture at the sound of those three words. He didn’t want to let Gary keep sleeping on the couch, but what could he do if the Sergeant stayed adamant? Maybe he’d stay in the kitchen just in case Gary needed him in the middle of the night. Or if he needed Gary in the middle of the night. That wouldn’t be unheard of.

Leading them downstairs, Simon could still pick up some signs of distress from Gary. That wouldn’t do. It wasn’t nighttime yet, they still had a handful of light hours to spend, and Simon didn’t want to spend them in misery. Not when he’d just gotten here.

Simon made Gary sit while he went to get them muffins from the kitchen. Placing them on small plates he came back to find Gary wrapped up in the blanket, looking slightly more content and a lot more fuzzy. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at the sight.

He set the plates on the coffee table and slumped against Gary on the couch. Soon he was engulfed in the blanket as Gary repositioned it to reach over both of them, and Simon grinned. They slid down to a more comfortable position, lying down under covers, Simon rested his head on Gary’s chest. He listened to the steady heartbeat audible through the t-shirt and ribcage of his boyfriend. Wait. Is that what he was?

“Bug…”

“What Simon?”

Gary’s hands combed through his dark wavy hair and Simon closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling. It felt so nice to be treated with care after so long. He didn’t want to look at the jumble of emotions connected to the feeling, he knew they were not good, but he’d grant himself this. It felt nice.

“Are you my boyfriend?”

Simon peeked through his half-closed eyelids just in time to see the slight blush creep up on Gary’s cheeks, just in time to see the very pleased smile spread on his lips. His eyes were so beautiful, the light hit them from just the right angle, and Simon was convinced he could swim in the toffee-chocolate swirls of Gary’s irises.

“You want me to be?”

Simon nodded. He felt a smile creep on his own lips as Gary’s fingers didn’t stop combing through his hair and the other hand at his back tightened its hold. No wonder Gary had no objection to being held. It was warm.

“Yeah, I’m your boyfriend silly.”

Simon buried his face in Gary’s chest, suddenly too self-conscious to look at Gary. This was so new. Gary’s hands shifted from his hair and back to pull him up, high enough to kiss him. Simon let himself go in the slow move of his lips against Gary’s, in the increasing heat and passion as Gary’s hands moved to his cheeks to keep him there, indefinitely. He let himself have it all.

Simon parted his lips enough for Gary’s tongue to entangle in his own, slow and steady. He could taste sugar from the muffins still on Gary’s tongue, from when he baked them. Simon was battling between staying in place lying on top of Gary and moving to straddle him, both would be comfortable options.

Deciding to kick things up a notch, he started moving up slowly, arching his back enough to not break the kiss but to let him maneuver himself to straddle Gary. The Sergeant hummed slightly as Simon’s hands ventured under his shirt, feeling the stretch of his abs. He’d missed this more than he’d cared to admit.

Gary’s hands came to rest on his hips, grounding him. Simon lamented the fact the couch was so narrow, too bad Gary insisted on coming downstairs. Maybe all he needed was new memories in that cold, empty bedroom. Maybe Simon could lure him there after some time. It would certainly be easier on Gary’s back and stomach.

Simon took the opportunity in Gary breaking off the kiss to breathe and focused his attention on Gary’s jawline. He pressed light kisses along it, pleased to find the skin soft. Gary excelled at a close shave and Simon loved the scent of his aftershave. He’d noticed it clinging to his sheets back on base, even after Gary had left. The real deal was immeasurably better.

Moving on to Gary’s neck, Simon made sure Gary would have something to remember him by. He felt the Sergeant’s pulse spike under his lips and the hold on his hips tightened. Refusing to be distracted by Gary’s uneven breath as it hitched in his throat, Simon moved lower when he felt the blossoming mark on Gary’s neck was perfect enough.

“Simon you’re gonna kill my couch if you continue like this…”

“You have a perfectly good bed upstairs Gary.”

Simon lifted his head in time to see Gary chuckle and roll his eyes. Hey, it was a good point. The pressure on his hips disappeared and Gary’s hands moved to trail over Simon’s features. The touch was gentle and soft. Simon could see slight hesitation in Gary’s eyes. What was it about that room?

Gary’s lips found his, and Simon could feel Gary melt little by little. The hesitation drained out of him, and soon Gary smiled into the kiss. Simon took it as permission to move things over to the big, fluffy bed upstairs.

He rose slowly, taking Gary’s hand in his own, lifting the bug up off the grey couch. The blanket fell off Gary and draped half over the couch, the other end falling to the floor. Simon was surprised as Gary grinned mischievously, and placing a hand on his chest, started backing them both toward the staircase.

“Let’s see what you got then.”

“Aha so that’s how it’s gonna be huh bug?”

Gary kept stealing kisses as Simon led the duo up the stairs. It made his job harder, made concentrating harder, and he didn’t want to fall. But he didn’t mind, at least he knew he wasn’t pressuring Gary into anything.

Simon kicked open the bedroom door as Gary was no longer stealing kisses but had him completely and utterly entangled in one. He worried about the door for a split second before Gary backed him against the bed effectively. He almost fell flat on his back before he spun Gary around to push him on the bed instead.

“Take off your shoes. I’m not letting you on this bed before you do.”

Simon groaned but complied, Gary’s voice sing-song-y in his ears. It would be a shame to get the linen dirty with the shit that lined the streets outside. He heard the rustle of sheets as Gary moved toward the center of the bed, and he soon followed, climbing on top the Sergeant.

“Happy now?”

“Hmm. Almost.”

Simon kissed Gary, grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and started tugging it upward. Gary quickly caught on and lifted his back enough for the two of them to wrestle the now useless piece of clothing off the good Sergeant. Simon saw the bullet wound, still rather pink but well on its way healing. The bandages were gone and the wound looked clean.

“Almost huh? Well, what do you want me to do?”

“Help me get these off you for starters.”

Simon wiggled his way out of the hoodie he had never discarded, helped by Gary’s nimble hands that shot down toward the edge of his shirt next, pulling it over his head. Once that found its way to the floor, Simon looked at Gary expectantly, brow quirking.

“Moving a little fast, are we?”

“Thought it was you who was in such a hurry to get here.”

Gary’s laugh was full of mirth and Simon joined in in a heartbeat. He leaned in to kiss Gary again, let himself trail over his boyfriend’s features, admire the curve of his neck, the lines of his face, those long lashes. Simon moved lower down the expanse of Gary’s bare skin, smiling to himself when Gary’s breaths became shorter. He could feel the anticipation building up. 

Simon let his fingers dip below the waistband of Gary’s slacks, and the Sergeant tensed his hips slightly, lifting them up. It made Simon smirk. He might as well prove Gary he wasn’t in such a hurry to get anywhere. Teasing Gary was always fun.

He kept his hand at Gary’s hip and pressed into it. He could feel the bone jutting out from underneath the muscle. Simon crawled back up to kiss Gary, and he could hear the annoyed huff the Sergeant let out involuntarily.

“C’mon Simon…”

“What do you want me to do? Hmm?”

Simon grinned when Gary’s hands started snaking their way down his back, lower and lower. He bumped their noses together, waiting for Gary’s answer. Gary’s breath tingled on his face, and his voice was low and husky when he spoke.

“Oh, you can do whatever you want to.”

“You’re such a prick, bug.”

He let his hand dip deeper and Gary’s breaths became faster and uneven.

>><< 

 “Wake up you lazy ass.”

Simon groaned and rolled on his side, shielding his face from the sunlight streaming in through the window. Someone was walking in the room, it had to be Gary. He was getting nearer by the sound of the footsteps on the old, dark floorboards.

Simon felt the mattress tip under Gary’s weight as he jumped on the bed. The sheets rustled and soon warmth engulfed him as Gary pressed against his back. An arm found its way across Simon’s side to his chest. Simon intertwined his and Gary’s fingers, squeezing reassuringly.

“I might if you’re a little politer about it.”

He felt Gary’s nose nuzzle against his neck before he felt a few light kisses against the vertebrae. Simon smiled sleepily. He was more than happy to be back in these arms, with this man. His boyfriend. Did it get any sappier than that?

“Wake up dear. Honey. Sweetheart… Lover.”

Simon grabbed a pillow and hit Gary over the head with it, the Sergeant’s laughter light in his ears. Hopefully Gary would never change. Simon wanted him to stay just this way. Gary would always try to find something to annoy him with.

“Hey it’s you who wanted me to be polite about it.”

Gary’s voice had regained its sing-song quality, and Simon turned on his back in an attempt to wake up. Just like he’d been ordered to. Lazy ass huh? The nerve of this bug.

“Alright. ‘m awake. No need to bully me anymore.”

Simon cracked open an eye and he found Gary’s head floating in front of him. He was grinning happily, the sun playing on his face. It made a beautiful caramel streak in his hair. His always messed up hair. A smile spread on Simon’s face as he fought to keep his eyes open.

“Breakfast Simon. I need food.”

“’s not even morning bug.”

Simon tried to lean and turn his head away as Gary stuck his hand in his face. This was definitely among the weirdest wake-ups he had had in his life. He didn’t exactly know what to think of it.

“Anyway someone has to cook!”

“And you think I know how to?”

Gary chewed on his lip and hesitated. Simon held in the chuckle that threatened to escape him. Gary had been right, of course, but he didn’t know for sure.

“Well… yeah?”

“You’re right, I do. Now get off me.”

He chased Gary downstairs to the small kitchen, pleased that the bed seemed to be off the taboo list for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now they're in the setting I want them to be! Anyway this is pretty fluffy, I didn't want to write a whole bunch of drama. And I want them to be happy in like... a healthy relationship.  
> So sorry to keep y'all waiting this long! Two chapters to go hmm.


	4. First day shopping

Horror came in the form of an empty fridge. Simon hadn’t really left the house ever since he wound up on Gary’s doorstep. But now it seemed like he was forced to. Gary was convinced fresh air would work some wonders on him, and so they were going together.

Simon hated the way people stared at him every time he went outside, eyes glued to the left side of his face and the visible scars, crisscrossing like the web of a lazy spider. They were an ugly reminder of his failures, courtesy of Manuel Roba. Back on base the mask had hidden them from sight, but he couldn’t wear it out in the city. Out in the world. Everything was so simple on base, out here he was lost.

He had managed to avoid the world for a week and a half before Gary thought it wasn’t healthy anymore. And apparently, a stop to the grocery store of all places was the perfect way to start. Get him used to life out of the military and all the people bustling about. He could do this. Thirty minutes tops.

Gary led him through the streets, the sun shining forcefully from the sky, reflecting off the glass-paned buildings and the metal surfaces. Simon appreciated him hovering close, not touching but walking closer than they normally would have, perhaps. It kept him from dissociating and panicking.

They stayed largely silent, there was some chit-chat but Simon couldn’t throw himself into it. The eyes at the back of his head persisted, and heads turned slowly as he walked by, and it was the only thing he could think of. The judgmental stares seemed to follow him everywhere.

The store was about a ten to fifteen-minute walk from their home but it felt like forever. It was huge and shiny, the aisles seemed to stretch on forever, and as soon as they stepped in the store their eyes caught on to a woman making what looked like guacamole in the middle of the fruit stands. The bright colors and lights bombarded Simon’s vision and he wanted to get out.

That’s when Gary squeezed his hand and offered a reassuring smile. The world stopped for a second, just a second, but Simon gathered his thoughts and courage, and they could start what they came to do. Gary narrated non-stop, eased him in and took his attention away from the eyes drilling a hole at the back of his head.

“Then we need something to make dinner out of, and lunch, and I don’t even know. What do you want to eat?”

Simon shrugged, no sound came out and he couldn’t really concentrate. The store was so full and loud. The woman in front of them had a stroller and a baby, and the baby’s eyes wouldn’t stop staring at him. It was such a crude comparison. To their right a group of college-aged boys were trying to figure out what they could cook, if anything.

“Think you could make something out of this? Nice, and then what should we get with that? How about- “

They made their way to the bread and pastry aisle after Gary piled the meat and frozen shrimp in a cart, followed by the guacamole he described as ‘excellent’, the tortilla chips and everything else between Heaven and Earth. He could really see Gary ate whatever he wanted to.

The harsh fluorescent lighting, the clamor of the shoppers, and the dark and musky colors of the store did nothing to ease the iron constraints wrapped tight around Simon’s chest. He could feel his pulse rise, rapid and erratic, and he found breathing harder by the minute. The dust got caught in his lungs, and every word and sentence he overheard was a new grain of dirt to swallow. They piled up and clogged his airways, and Simon felt like he was breathing through sandpaper.

The incessant loudness of a child was enough to reduce him to ashes. A child, just a small child, with a toothy grin and sparkling eyes, pointed a shaky finger at Simon, tugging at the sleeve of some adult, voice loud and clear. Simon felt himself freeze, and his blood turned to ice.

_Mommy over there! That man looks-_

Simon turned on his heel and headed for the nearest aisle, praying for the people to go away, praying to turn to dust and sink to the floor, praying for his lungs to work as he couldn’t breathe. Every breath sunk small knives deeper into his chest and sides, and his hand felt bare, devoid of the warmth of Gary’s fingers laced in his.

He had no place here. How could he ever have thought he was welcome? The child had been right.

Lost in haziness, the only thing on Simon’s mind was a way out. He needed to get air, he needed to get out from the scrutiny of other people. He needed to get home and never leave. Everything turned blurry, and as good as he was avoiding people, the store was an ever-shifting maze and he couldn’t find a way out and with every turn someone new stepped in his way and the eyes at the back of his skull-

A hand grasped his wrist in an iron grip, refusing to let go even as he instinctively tried to wrench himself free. A soft voice called out, and his surroundings swam slowly into focus. A streak of caramel, eyes he couldn’t mistake, the only pair in the entire world to look at him like that. The expression that graced him day after day. Gary.

“Simon? Simon? Focus. Breathe. You’re safe, I’m here. You’re okay. Just breathe.”

Gary’s thumb brushed the back of his hand, and Simon shuddered as he tried to keep fear at bay. He did what Gary told him to do – breathe. It was hard, the inhales sharp and exhales too short, but slowly he got better at it.

“We’re leaving.”

His ears were ringing.

Gary was leading him to the door and Simon could have sworn people almost leapt out of the way as Gary shouldered past them. He couldn’t speak and he couldn’t keep track of his surroundings, but he trusted Gary enough to simply follow.

At some point the dim yet harsh lighting of the store changed for the blinding sunlight, and Simon angled his head downward to face the concrete of the sidewalk. He could dimly register the warmth of Gary’s hand in his, and the thumb that kept brushing across the back of his hand was the only thing that reminded him of where he was.

Time didn’t exist.

Simon felt blind.

The click of a lock and the familiar scent flooded his senses.

Home.

Gary’s hands flitted over him in a hurry, and the worry shined in his eyes as he stepped to face Simon. Simon felt his breath catch slowly, and he saw more with the passing of every second. Gary’s hands moved to cradle his cheeks, touch light, eyes flicking from one to the other in an attempt to find something in Simon’s. He blinked and Gary mirrored the movement, before relief shone on his face.

He crashed into Simon, hands holding on tight. Simon couldn’t find the strength to return the gesture at first, and for a second or two, he simply stood in Gary’s embrace.

Before he found his hands again, figured how to move them, and wrapped them around Gary’s back, frantically searching for something to hold on to. Whatever composure he had regained was lost once more, and Simon tried to hold back the tearless, dry sobs that racked his chest. Gary was mumbling against his shoulder, head buried.

“God, I’m so sorry Simon, I’m so sorry. I never should have made you come, never. I’m so sorry.”

He wished Gary would just shut up. Just stay quiet and hold him. Let him work through the distress.

He also wanted to hear Gary say it was okay. Things were going to be fine. Hear him say he was safe.

“It’s going to be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re here. Safe. Alive. Nobody’s gonna come. We’re safe.”

Little by little, step by step Gary led him to the couch, kicking off his own shoes, pulling Simon’s off. He managed to seat them both down and Simon felt so safe tucked in the crook of Gary’s neck, breathing in the scent of him, lost in the quiet.

Gary’s hand ran in wide arcs along his back, the other held on to his head, fingers tangled in the curls. Simon followed the rhythm of Gary’s breath, in and out, deep and round. His lungs weren’t full of dirt and dust, and nothing was rough and coarse like sandpaper. Gary had thrown the blanket over him, and he wouldn’t freeze or turn to ice.

Simon was exhausted.

>><< 

He woke up to something wet dropping on his cheek. For a little while the darkness and the weight on his head felt like the pressuring confines of the coffin and grave, but the warmth and the familiar scent promised he would never go back. The wet feeling on his cheek persisted, anew.

Simon shifted, now fully aware of the hand gripping his back, and the fingers brushing through his hair. Gary’s head was resting against his. They were lying on the couch, under the blanket, and he was safe. Hidden, out of sight. Something wet rolled down his jaw.

Simon shifted again, found himself buried in the crook of Gary’s neck where he’d been left. Nuzzling his way out gently, he faced Gary, found the toffee and chocolate swirls melting a little. Simon didn’t want to see the red that rimmed Gary’s lower lash line, and neither did he want to see the way his long lashes stuck together.

Simon moved gingerly, afraid of breaking something, afraid of what would happen next, but he’d decided to face it head on, and damn it he would. He tilted his head enough to feel the press of Gary’s lips on his, simple and soft. Reconciliation, maybe it was really hidden in the details.

“Hey. How’re you feeling?”

Gary’s voice was quiet, a murmur that never failed to make Simon’s hear beat a little faster, and the hand in his hair continued brushing through the strands, even more careful than before. ‘Sorry’ rolled off every gesture Gary made, it showed on his face and shone from his eyes, and the hand at Simon’s back promised to let it seep as deep as it needed to for him to forgive.

“’m tired.”

Simon snaked his hands around Gary’s back, let them smooth out between his shoulder blades, twine is his hair. He was looking for a way to burrow himself deeper in the embrace, press closer to Gary until there was no space left. Maybe he would feel hurt tomorrow morning. Maybe he would feel betrayed in an hour or two. Maybe he would feel the need to explain what went wrong.

Or maybe he wouldn’t.

He just wanted to sleep.

After napping for the day, Gary plied him off the couch, made him eat something still left in the cupboard, and tucked him in bed. Simon stared at the ceiling, waiting for Gary to come back. He missed the warmth of another body, and the sheets felt cold against his skin. Gary had made him change into something more comfortable, slacks, and bare-chested the cold really threatened to make him relive everything.

He tracked the cracks and scratches in the ceiling, sounding for the light pad of Gary’s feet on the wood. Quiet relief, and the rustle of sheets, a dip in the mattress, and Simon shuddered as he found his way into Gary’s arms. He wasn’t the best at being vulnerable, but Gary made it easy. He never judged.

Simon let his head rest against Gary’s throat, lips brushing against the dip between his collarbones. Gary’s fingers were combing through his hair again, in soft and comforting strokes, sorting out the tangles, and Simon wished everything was that easy. His troubles straightened out like the web of his hair.

The last thought in Simon’s head before he fell asleep was whether or not the red rims around Gary’s eyes would be gone in the morning.

>><< 

Simon found they’d shifted through the night, Gary was pressed against his back, arm slung over his to lace their fingers together. Gary had smushed his face against Simon’s shoulder. A smile graced his lips for what felt like forever. Not much to smile about, yesterday, and it felt nice.

Simon didn’t move, he didn’t want to risk waking Gary up. He wanted to be alone, alone together.

Blurry details from the day before clouded his mind. The eyes boring into his skull threatened to breach the security of their bedroom, but Gary was his personal talisman, keeping the memories from becoming too unpleasant. He remembered the haste of people passing him by on the street and the wavering hand of the child who had singled him out from a crowd of tens.

Gary obviously bore responsibility. He felt he was to blame for everything that had happened at the store. Simon didn’t know what to think of it. He didn’t know who to blame. Gary had coaxed him out, but on some level Simon had agreed to go. He had enough will to say no, he wouldn’t let anyone take that away anymore.

Simon didn’t know what to think.

Maybe he didn’t need to think.

Did he need to think?

Gary mumbled in his shoulder blade, and the hold on his hand tightened. Simon smiled contently. He had everything he needed, and if he didn’t read into yesterday too much, if he just let it lie after Gary’s apology, everything would be mended. That’s all he needed.

The morning progressed and light swam in through the thin, white curtains hung in front of the bedroom window. Simon became aware of the small movement Gary made when he was about to wake up, like the flutter of his eyelids traveled through his body.

Not soon after he felt the graze of Gary’s teeth as his boyfriend yawned against his skin. That was a sure sign Gary was awake. Simon rolled on his back, cherished the sight of Gary – just woken up, hair a mess, still sleepy – puffed-up like a starling.

“Hey sleeping beauty.”

Gary grinned lazily, and stretched the hand not held by Simon. He looked so cute, and Simon couldn’t help grinning. He nuzzled against Simon’s side, and Simon purred contently. Gary was warm against his skin, their twined hands resting on his chest, Gary pressing into the side of his neck.

“Hi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long.  
> I started writing a chapter and then realized it was too early for that. I'm publishing both as a sort of apology.  
> I don't know what to say about this, so honestly, make your own conclusions.  
> Also here is a doodle I was pretty happy with, if anyone wants a visual or something!  
> http://auri-p.tumblr.com/post/154602993316/morning-cuddles


	5. First flu

Simon dug out the keys from his pockets, nothing a little rummaging around couldn’t fix. He balanced the groceries in one hand and opened the cherry tree wood door with the other. Stepping inside he could hear the pad of Gary's steps upstairs over his head.

“I’m home!”

Gary finished whatever he was doing before coming downstairs into the kitchen to help Simon put the groceries where they belonged. The stained countertops had stopped bugging him some time ago, he was used to them by now. They were a part of home by now. Simon opened the fridge and put away anything that would go bad if it was left sitting, like meat and milk.

Sunlight streamed in through the windows looking out onto the backyard. They were surprisingly large for a house so small, and Simon loved them. The weather was the polar opposite of the rainy and bleak English days he found he longed for less and less. He liked the rain, that wasn’t the issue, only here he could actually stand outside and enjoy it without freezing. Gary would sometimes join him and they would stand in the yard side by side and let the water wet their hair and clothes.

“Did you bring anything sweet for me?”

He laughed and Gary pouted, set his mouth in a frown in such a cute way. No, he hadn’t brought anything sweet, but he had brought everything Gary would need to bake. Fuck he was really good at that. Cooking? Not so much.

“No, but I did resupply your pantry so if you want something sweet you gotta make it bug.”

Simon grabbed Gary by the waist and pulled him close. Gary’s hands came to rest on his shoulders as he planted a kiss on Gary’s cheek.

“Mmm fine. I’ll bake.”

“That’s my bug.”

Gary kissed him before detangling. Once he got started it was like a hurricane had taken refuge in the kitchen. There were cups and bowls everywhere, half the countertops were littered with flour and sugar, and everything not related got pushed to the corners of the kitchen table. Simon knew better than to get in the way, instead he often hung around to watch leaning on the wall. That way when Gary had a pause he could steal a kiss or two. Or taste whatever Gary was making.

“Today you don’t get to hang around and grin like an idiot.”

“What? What’d I do?”

“It’s what you didn’t do. You-”

Simon was backed out of the kitchen by Gary’s gentle hand on his chest and a mischievous grin on the Sergeant’s face.

“-are going to sleep while I bake.”

Before he could get a word in, Gary had pushed him on the sofa and thrown the blanket over him. Simon had barely time to kick off the shoes. Bloody bug.

“I’m not gonna- “

“Yes, yes you are. Even you need sleep Simon.”

“I do not.”

Simon grumbled, and contradictory to his own words, rolled up in the blanket tighter. He could write an epic poem about that blanket, just like David Lynch could have written an epic poem about the cherry pie in Twin Peaks. It was so warm and soft and big.

“You’re 29 Simon, yes you do. Ain’t young like me anymore and that means sooner or later, I’ll need to start worrying about dislocating your hip.”

“What the fuck Gary?”

Simon snickered as Gary disappeared into the kitchen momentarily, only to reappear with a flour streak on his cheek. He looked comical at best. He bent down to kiss Simon and tuck him in better, all traces of wittiness gone.

“I’ll wake you up when I’m done.”

Simon muttered something incomprehensible to even himself, and buried his face in the coarse sofa pillow. Maybe he could sleep, with Gary baking just a few meters away. Soon the house would smell like something really sweet and wonderful. Yeah, he could sleep here. Nothing was going to come busting down their door any moment soon.

>><< 

Simon woke up to the bang of the oven door, always louder than either of them anticipated. He yawned, stretched, and felt his back crack. Could it be that Gary was right, maybe he would need to start looking out for that hip of his. Twenty-nine wasn’t that old.

He got up and folded the blanket as neatly as he could, tossing it on the backrest of the couch. The beige – or actually egg white – mat muffled his footsteps as he made his way into the kitchen to find Gary sitting on the table. The Sergeant was dangling his feet in the air, looking very content, eating peanut butter straight from the jar. The half-eaten jar. Simon had bought that today!

“Whoa, ease up on the peanut butter.”

Gary let out an undignified squeak as Simon grabbed the jar out of his lands and focused on finding the lid. It was hastily thrown on top of their opened mail. Simon put the lid on the peanut butter and put it back in the pantry where it belonged. Fucking hell, Gary had something baking in the oven yet he couldn’t wait for that whatever to be ready.

He turned back to find a pouting Sergeant glaring at him, arms crossed. This was so like Gary, and it made Simon laugh. Time to grovel his way back into Gary’s arms huh?

“C’mon bug, be reasonable. I bought that jar today and it’s almost gone.”

“But it’s so good and I want to eat it. Gimme my peanut butter back.”

Simon shook his head and smiled as he made his way back to Gary, back into his good graces. He leaned into Gary’s lap, never failing to be amused by the height difference. Gary wrapped his legs around Simon’s. The smell of… peanut butter slowly and surely filled the air. Might have been what Gary was baking, might have been Gary himself.

“We’re gonna go bankrupt if you keep eating everything in one sitting.”

“I don’t care.”

Simon could taste the peanut butter on Gary’s lips and on his breath. He might have gotten sick of the stuff had it not been for this. Gary’s tongue ran over his lower lip before the Sergeant bit it. Simon let his hands get tangled in Gary’s hair, and he felt Gary’s hand at his lower back, sneaking under his shirt.

The timer on the oven rang loud and annoying.

“Hah buzzkill!”

“Fuck…”

Gary jumped off the table and dashed for the oven. The hurricane version of his boyfriend seemed to be back. Simon found his usual spot by the wall and observed as Gary took out two baking tins full of peanut butter squares. He perched them on the counter after finding something to put under. Not that anything would have bothered the battered countertops anymore.

Simon found himself smiling just looking at Gary fuss around looking for something to cut the squares with. He was so cute. Lively and sarcastic and funny. Civilian life definitely suited Gary, he was far more relaxed home than he ever was back at base.

“C’mon, they gotta cool down.”

They made their way into the living room, falling on the couch. Gary found the remote hidden away between the cushions and idly switched between the channels until he settled on something worthwhile to watch. Simon closed his eyes for a moment.

There was nothing wrong in the world when they lived in moments like these. Simon felt comforted by Gary’s weight draped over his chest, the warmth of Gary’s hand in his, the steady rhythm of his breath. It was safety boiled down to just being. And Simon wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

In the beginning, he had his moments of doubt, and the discomfort that seemed to constrict his breath had come and gone in various degrees each day, but the longer he stayed the more at ease he felt with Gary. Turned out the bug was more than ready to let him do things at his own pace, no rush, no nothing, ever since. And he found himself being filled with that hope he thought he’d let go a long time ago.

Maybe there was a word for whatever he felt when he was with Gary. Simon wasn’t going to say anything, he had no idea how to go about it, but if Gary were to say it, he wouldn’t hesitate.

“Imagine being that stupid. I mean seriously, who even does that?”

Simon brought his attention back to here and now where Gary was scowling at the TV screen, deeply unimpressed. He was watching something that looked too much like idiots going out of their way to get themselves or someone else hurt. It wasn’t too far from the stupid shit some of Gary’s friends had pulled back on base.

Simon ran a hand through Gary’s hair, messing it up for good measure. The cowlick was charming, but Gary’s bedhead was still among the best things he had seen. Smiling, he met Gary’s eyes peering up at him, his boyfriend’s chin digging into his sternum. Gary’s face was half-burrowed in Simon’s hoodie.

“I seem to recall Meat and Toad being just as stupid.”

“Shhhhh, that’s beside the point.”

“Well what is the point then, bug?”

“There is no point.”

“Wha-?”

Gary’s lips crashed into his and Simon couldn’t stop the surprised sound that escaped him. Where was this coming from? Not that he had any objections. Gary shifted upward, but before he could get up, Simon twined his legs around Gary’s to pin him in place.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“You got any objections?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Just figured we could finish whatever you started back in the kitchen.”

Simon lost himself in the tangle of their tongues, slow and languid. Gary’s hands found their way under the layers of the hoodie and shirt, running along Simon’s chest. Gary’s breath hitched in his throat as Simon ran his hands down Gary’s sides, he was so ticklish.

Suddenly Gary wrenched himself free of the kiss, leaving Simon bewildered and a little concerned. What did he do? What was the matter? Shit. The worry kept growing as Gary avoided his eyes and gasped for breath.

And then he sneezed. Loud and unexpected, the sound brought everything to a halt.

The worry drained out of Simon as soon as it rose, replaced by amusement and relief. A fucking sneeze. Gary had him going through different nightmarish scenarios for a sneeze. Maybe standing, dancing, rolling around in the rain a few days ago hadn’t done Gary any favors.

“You’re getting sick!”

“No, I am definitely not. Hell no. Fuck you for even suggesting that.”

“Yeah you wish to.”

Simon snickered as Gary looked wholly unimpressed. What more had the bug expected? He wasn’t known for not cracking crappy jokes at every possible opportunity.

“After that I may not want to.”

“Hey you opened yourself up for that one.”

Gary laughed and focused his attention on Simon’s neck, his tongue ran over the sensitive skin, promising to leave a hickey that would still be visible come next morning. Simon couldn’t bother to try and stifle the moan Gary coaxed out of him.

And then he had to stop to sneeze, again.

Simon fought hard to stop the laughter he held inside. He wasn’t too disappointed, this was so entirely new to him. With Gary getting sick, it would mean he would have to – no, he would get to – take care of the bug. It made his heart flutter slightly.

“You know what bug? You’re getting sick. Most definitely. And now you’re gonna let me take care of you.”

“That was the plan.”

Gary’s grumbling made Simon smile wider and roll his eyes for that matter. Trust Gary to try and try anyway. Simon pet Gary’s cheek and slowly detangled his legs. Now if he’d only manage to get Gary to lie down and drink tea. That’s what you’re supposed to drink when you’re sick, right?

“Well, change of plan. I’m still taking care of you just… not in that sense. Lemme get you some tea.”

After some hesitation, Gary let up.

“Okayyy. Man, can’t say I’ve been looked after in a long time.”

“We’re gonna fix that.”

Simon flipped their positions so Gary was lying under him, the sudden movement catching Gary by surprise. His eyes got momentarily dark, so dark Simon’s mind was left reeling. No. Time for the bleeding tea.

He threw the blanket over Gary, making sure it covered the whole of him, and went to look for the tea. It was stuffed in the back of a cupboard, left to gather dust figuratively speaking. It didn’t take long to bring the kettle to boil and Simon grabbed Gary’s favorite mug off the shelf – the black one painted to look like a cat, with its whiskers and pink nose, complete with protruding ears. The bug had bought it at a moment’s whim.

Gary’s loud coughing and wheezing carried over through the thin plaster wall, and it sounded pretty bad to Simon’s ears. Gary was getting properly sick, and Simon wasn’t sure if there was any avoiding it. He felt worried, as stupid as it sounded even to his own ears. He hadn’t really taken care of anyone since he tried to fix things with his fucked-up family, and to grossly understate, that did not turn out well.

The tea was still hot and so he set it on the coffee table to cool down, focusing on the pathetic sniffles Gary was making. He really was sick. Simon pressed a hand to his forehead, pleased to find his boyfriend wasn’t running a fever.

“You don’t have a fever, which is good, but I’m thinking you rolling around in the rain didn’t do you much favors.”

“Shut up, it was fun! Besides you couldn’t take your eyes off me which was the goal all along.”

If he were the blushing kind, Simon would have probably done just that. Gary had been charming, all smiles, spinning around in circles in the rain. The way it slowly soaked through his clothes, the thin t-shirt, and the way it tamed his ever-messy hair. There was no way he would have looked the other way. Especially after Gary fell and simply lay on the ground, let the rain dapple his skin.

“Yeah well. Doesn’t matter now. Anything you need bug?”

Gary shook his head and slumped against the pillows. He looked tired, and his face had lost some of its color. Simon hesitated between staying and going to fix Gary something to eat, eventually settling on the latter. He didn’t have to eat it now, but when he did get hungry – or when Simon had to make him eat just to keep him alive – it would be there.

>><< 

“Hey sweetheart. Sleep well?”

Simon woke up slowly, feeling dazed. His neck was aching, just slightly, and he had no idea what the hell had happened. After a few slow blinks and some thinking, some waning between sleep and being awake, Simon realized he was tucked away at the other end of the couch, Gary’s feet in his lap.

“We still on earth?”

“Yeah, we’re still on Earth.”

Gary’s voice sounded stuffy and though he didn’t look too worse for wear, Simon couldn’t believe it was him who fell asleep. Inexcusable. He’d have to make it up somehow. But right now, it was time to make sure Gary had taken aspirin, and he’d drunk the tea, and eaten and-

“Simon? Helloo?”

“What?”

Gary laughed weakly and attempted to sit up straight, which didn’t really work and only elicited a nasty cough out of him. Simon lurched forward to stop him from getting up. He felt a little ridiculous, like a mother hen, but this was Gary.

“Chill. It’s just a flu. No need to space out and feel guilty about falling asleep. You haven’t been sleeping and it’s bound to catch up to you sometime.”

“I- yeah okay. But- “

Simon sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was not good at this, not at all. Gary was smiling slyly from the other end of the couch, glancing at the TV from time to time. He was obviously watching something, still.

“I’ll drop it. Did you eat?”

“Yeah? We ate together and then you fell asleep. Don’t worry about it.”

Christ. Was he suffering from amnesia? Simon groaned and let his head hang back against the wall. It was true, he had barely slept all week and surprisingly today had been the straw that broke the camel’s back and lulled him to sleep. Twice. The timing was incredibly bad.

“Hey, really Simon. If I wasn’t sick, I’d kiss you right about now but I can’t. So, you’ll have to take my word for it.”

“Why can’t you kiss me anyway…”

He grumbled and Gary laughed as much as he could with lungs in such a shitty condition. The issue seemed to be resolved and Simon turned his attention to the TV, finding Gary watching National Geographic to his surprise.

“What’s this?”

“’The Science of Stupid’. It’s painful and cringe-y and I love it.”

Gary burst out laughing as some idiot on screen rode down a hill on a children’s bike, yelling incomprehensibly and ending up in a hedge by some white house’s lawn. Surprisingly the narrator had a British accent. Weird. There was a whole lot of physics involved, and Simon understood why Gary watched it with such fervor. 

“How long have you been watching this?”

“It’s a marathon. Oh my God people can be stupid!”

Simon smiled fondly at Gary’s expression; he was leaning as far back as he could into the couch, half intent on shielding his eyes from what was going on in the screen, mouth set in a grimace, his eyes crinkling. Simon forgot the flu for a moment, suddenly Gary didn’t look all that sick.

He had no idea why he stopped to look at Gary all of a sudden, it was happening with alarming regularity. Gary was doing something completely mundane, minding his own business, talking, watching something, baking, the list went on and on, and Simon could just stop everything and stare. He found himself spacing out just looking at Gary, and the warm feeling in his chest persisted.

“Instead of staring at me all day, you could get me that peanut butter.”

Simon focused on Gary, grinning. Now that his boyfriend was sick, of course he would eat as much of everything he shouldn’t as he could. Simon wasn’t going to stop him.

“Sure. But shouldn’t you be eating what you baked?”

“Yeah, later.”

He got up, followed by Gary’s voice to the kitchen. Everything was just like he’d left it after making early dinner for both of them. Now he moved the peanut butter squares from the baking tins to containers, cleaned up the rest of the mess still left on the countertops by the bug, and made another pot of tea. It was a good thing someone was drinking it.

“You better be happy, now that you’ve eaten straight out of the jar there’s no other use for this.”

“Oh I am.”

Simon carried the peanut butter and tea back to the living room, carefully setting them on the coffee table. He felt Gary’s eyes at his neck the whole time he poured out the tea, and they relented only after he’d surrendered the jar over. Gary’s disinclination to move from under the covers was greater than his wish to eat anything. It was endearing.

The evening dragged on, slowly, in company of videos that caused them both secondhand embarrassment, and slowly but surely, Gary’s eyes started to close. At first it was stealthy, and went without notice, but soon he had real trouble keeping them open, and Simon intervened. Carrying a giggling Gary up the stairs was less tasking than Simon would have thought.

“It’s like in those movies huh?”

“Yeah bug, definitely. Except I’m just going to tuck you in.”

Simon let Gary twist in his arms to open the door, that way kicking it open wouldn’t be necessary. He didn’t bother flicking on the lights and Simon carried Gary in the room.

“Mmm that’s hard to believe. You gotta have ulterior motives.”

The hold of Gary’s hands at the back of Simon’s neck tightened as the Sergeant brought his face close enough to bump their noses together. The scent of peanut butter persisted on Gary's breath, still, even hours after he had depleted the jar.

“Yeah, it has to be I’m doing this for sex, not at all because I love you.”

His tone light, a grin slowly spreading on his face, Simon felt himself freeze on spot. Gary slowly leaned back in his arms, really dropping all his weight for Simon to carry, and his brown eyes sought out the blue of the Lieutenant’s. Simon wanted to wrench his eyes away, drop Gary on the spot and hide.

He hadn’t been thinking, that was the truth. The words had just slipped out of his mouth. With his boyfriend in his arms in a bridal carry, the quiet, fast-paced conversation, the darkness of night, everything felt so natural. He could lay his secrets bare and let go of the past just to be with Gary.

The words had just slipped out of his mouth.

“Wh- I- “

“I don’t- “

Gary’s brown eyes were so wide, and they gleamed and glistened like the stars themselves, flickering from eye to eye, trying to find answers. Simon couldn’t offer any, he himself only had questions that made him feel nervous in a way he hadn’t before.

Then finally the round ‘o’ Gary’s mouth had adopted changed for a soft smile before he spoke.

“Say that again.”

Simon swallowed and his mouth felt so dry. For a moment, he wondered whether to fuck around, but the situation didn't warrant it, and he wanted to be honest. It was the truth after all, even if he had hardly identified the feeling before himself. Gary in his arms, the weight of world was lifted off his shoulders.

“I love you.”

Gary’s eyes crinkled and the most beautiful smile spread on his lips. So what if he had the flu, so what if he was running a fever, he was here. 

“I love you too.”

Simon found he didn’t care about the flu, couldn’t care about it, as leaned to kiss Gary. It was soft and gentle and sweet. A second first kiss. Gary craned his neck so he could reach. 

Soon they were both under covers, feet entangled, Simon only half-heartedly trying to make Gary lie still and let the flu be, not aggravate it, but Gary was a force to be reckoned with, and he refused to simply sleep it off. He couldn't remember ever being looked at the same way Gary did, pupils dilated, mouth slightly parted, the gleam of teeth visible in the low light. A dark look in Gary's eyes that Simon was sure was mirrored in his own. 

The next morning, they both woke up coughing and sneezing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to fluff. Well, it's been really fun writing this. Thank you to everyone who read, commented, or gave kudos. And thank you for bookmarking!  
> Hope you'll come back in a week or so!


	6. One last

The velveteen box stared at Gary from its empty spot at the bedside table. Gary stared back intently, chewing on his lip. Today was the day, his birthday. Officially twenty-eight. And he couldn’t have been more nervous.

The surface of the box was pristine and black, oh so smooth. The lid was round and sturdy, and the bottom part matched perfectly. Gary had cleared out a space for it, and now the table was unoccupied, by all but the small lamp and clock. He couldn’t tear his eyes from it, hands folded in his lap, legs extended and crossed at the ankles.

Simon was trying to find a new novel to read in the study.

It wouldn’t be long before he was back.

Gary felt his chest clench looking at the box, and it all proved too much for him, his plans for the evening, the quiet discomfort, and he snatched it from the table and hid in the drawer. Out of sight out of mind. Though it proved impossible.

The quiet pad of footsteps alerted him from his daze.

“Takes forever to find anything from that shelf of yours, it’s a goddamn mess.”

He lifted his gaze and tried to snap out of it, just in time to see Simon walk in the room completely immersed in the back cover of the novel he was toying with. Gary chuckled and leaned back until he heard the soft thud and rustle of the sheets underneath him.

“I’m serious. You don’t have asthma, right?”

“No? How come?”

Simon plopped down on the bed, still studying whatever he’d picked out from the vast array of old and even older books piling up on shelves.

“We gotta reshelf everything.”

Despite the annoyance gnawing at the bottom of his stomach, Gary rolled his eyes and smiled gently. It was his birthday, and they were talking about cleaning. But it wasn’t like Simon had forgotten. He had waited until the Gary’s time of birth to wish him happy birthday, lying contently on the couch, watching a stupid romantic comedy.

“You know if this is your idea of flirting, I think we need to find the dictionary first.”

He shifted to lie properly on the bed and buried his face in the soft pillow. They’d changed the bedspread and the sheets were no longer the usual plain white cotton, but instead a toned-down heather, and Gary liked the way they came to life when the sun streamed in from the cream-framed windows.

Gary heard a dull thud followed by rustling and a small grunt. He was curious, but not enough to warrant a peek. The velveteen box kept swimming in and out of his thoughts, and momentarily he felt like scorning it out of spite.

He’d planned this for so long, and somehow now that it was time, he was such a nervous wreck that nothing felt right.

“Thought I was pretty smooth last night.”

Simon’s voice came from closer than Gary could have anticipated. It was a low murmur, a little rough, more than enough to make a thrill run down his spine. A sly grin plastered on Simon’s face, and a hand ghosting on his lower back brought Gary to here and now.

“So you thought…”

“Happy birthday love.”

Gary grinned, face half-hidden in the pillow before Simon’s hands coaxed him out of his hiding spot. They were just a little cold, and Gary could feel the callouses left by the countless weapons and injuries that were just a part of the job. Had been a part of the job.

Simon pressed a soft kiss on Gary’s cheek before scuttling in closer, twining his arms around Gary, head burrowing in the crook of his neck. Gary smiled and hummed – neither had been doing so well lately, ever since the prescription for sleeping pills and Simon’s antidepressants had run out, leaving a small, unaccounted gap.

“I’m taking you out today.”

“Wha?”

Very intelligible. Gary leaned back to see a pleased glint in Simon’s eye. Wow, he was going on a date, today, with Simon. Despite the obvious glee it set off in him, Gary felt even more nervous. How was he going to make the plan work?

Because he had a plan. Got it all figured out.

>><< 

The scene was picturesque – right out of a postcard. The sky was a dark, dark blue, partially hidden by wisps of clouds, softly illuminated by the nearly full moon and the light glow of the streetlamps. Gary cast his eyes on the water, clear and beautiful, the lights tainting it shades of yellow and green, the blue shining through even in the darkness.

It was exactly like he’d pictured it.

The quiet rustle of the wind in the trees calmed Gary’s aching heart. The evening was already perfect, the dinner had been incredible and so surprising. Simon had thought of everything. He’d managed to find a small and intimate restaurant to spend the evening in, and the food was nothing short of delicious. It reminded Gary of the rare times he’d been out to eat with his family.

Simon squeezed his fingers, just a small gesture to remind him where they were. Gary sighed and glanced at him – looking like a hundred bucks in the dark coat, shirt and tie. Gary was sure his own pocket would catch fire any second.

The box felt heavier than any rifle.

“Why’d you wanna come here bug? I’m not saying it’s not pretty.”

He smiled slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching. Why indeed? He knew he’d want to propose down at the waterfront, had known ever since the idea presented itself one April morning, as they made their way to the nearby café after a morning run. It felt right.

He knew, that even after nearly two years, the timing might be wrong. It might be too early and Simon might not want the same things he did. It was always a possibility. But Gary had decided not to let life get the best of him – the best of them.

Gary watched the waves lap away at the concrete.

“Just wanted to see it at night. Figured it’d be pretty. And it is.”

“Yeah…”

Gary noticed a bench a few feet away, right under a streetlamp, right out of some movie. He pointed at it, and wordlessly Simon understood. They sat down and Gary enjoyed the warmth of Simon’s shoulder against his. The moon reflected on the surface of the lake – or was it the sea?

“Thank you. For today.”

Simon locked eyes with him, thumb brushing across the back of Gary’s hand. So soft, so blue, his eyes looked bright. Gary tried not to assess how long Simon’s eyes had been like mirrors, hoping they wouldn’t go back again.

“’s the least I could do. And I wanted to.”

Simon leaned forward, and Gary felt his breath get caught in his chest. The moment was shaping up to be the one. A hand on his cheek, Gary met Simon half-way, breath tingling on his face.

“You deserve nothing less.”

A bare whisper, and Gary had half the heart not to reach in his jacket pocket just to enjoy the kiss. He could still taste the dessert, faint and sweet. Ice cream, sorbet. Simon loved both. Smooth like the cover of the ring box.

 “Simon..?”

His heart was starting to beat faster than a hummingbird’s wings. A hand clutched around the box, the velvet tight in his grasp, hidden from Simon. The slight breeze in the air ruffled their clothes, and blew some of Simon’s hair on Gary’s face.

The incredible blue of Simon’s eyes trailed his movements as he put some distance between them. He didn’t know what to think of the look, he could have sworn the intelligent spark signaled Simon knew what was to follow.

Gary felt breathless as he pulled their laced hands apart, bringing the black velvet box between them. He opened the lid.

“Will you marry me?”

It was a simple wedding band, nothing lustrous, nothing to catch your eye. No stone. Gary had a tough time choosing between gold and white gold – traditional gold was just that, traditional, but the silver gleam of white gold looked like mercury, ever-shifting.

Picking out the right size was easier than he’d expected. Simon had surprisingly long and beautiful fingers, the field hadn’t weathered them to a point of no recognition. The clerk had asked who the lucky girl was, earning an exasperated sigh from Gary. It was always the same – people hadn’t magically changed.

It wasn’t nearly enough to ruin the memory. Nothing could – perhaps. His nerves had been on fire under the hot, yellow lights of the small, crammed shop. Palms threatening to sweat, hands working with resolve, Gary had examined ring after ring.

Nothing short of best would do.

He’d felt overwhelmed stepping back onto the street, no longer in the soft glow of gold and silver, the bright sparkle of gems. There was no shortage of light and Gary had found himself wishing for the security of the evening as he made his way with the box in his pocket.

A smile and a pleased blush crept up on Simon’s face, and Gary knew he’d made the right choice.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you. God yes.”

He said yes. Simon said yes. _Oh my God._

Gary plucked the ring from the box, watched it gleam in the little light as Simon expectantly presented his left hand. Gary couldn’t help the grin on his face as he slid the silvery ring on Simon’s ring finger, marveling at how perfect it looked there.

The grin was mirrored on Simon’s face as Gary gave him the matching ring. His palm was warm against Gary’s, and the cold metal made Gary shiver. It wasn’t the only thing, he was fairly certain.

Simon admired the rings, so obviously pleased, Gary felt like his heart might burst. He looked genuinely happy, and the way his eyes crinkled and the shadows under them smoothed out was reassuring. Gary should have stopped worrying a long time ago – everything was fine – but that would have been too uncharacteristic. He was the epitome of worry.

Tonight was perfect.

“I’m glad.”

“Me too bug. I was hoping you’d ask.”

Simon practically beamed at him. Gary felt a sense of relief flood him, a sort of sense of security he knew he’d never had before. He wasn’t going to die tomorrow, nor the day after. He didn’t have to go anywhere except work, and that was on Monday. A whole weekend stretched ahead of them, blissful and quiet.

“Had a hunch, huh?”

“You looked like a kid who got their hand stuck in the cookie jar a few weeks back. I had my doubts.”

Gary smiled and closed the distance between them, absent-mindedly toying with the band on Simon’s finger. Simon let his forehead rest against Gary’s.

“Now I can introduce you as my fiancée… Imagine that.”

“Damn… To whom though, bug?”

Right. To whom exactly? Gary bit his lip, wondering if Simon would finally consent to making an appearance at all the parties the law firm Gary worked at threw. But did it really matter who he was introducing Simon to? For all he cared, it could be the old lady next door, who was as much his friend as Simon’s, or the cashiers at the local grocery store, who somewhat remembered them. Anyone. Just so he could say those words.

“I don’t care, anyone who comes across. Hell, I’ll re-introduce you to all our neighbors.”

“Shit, I’d like that.”

The following kiss left Gary nothing short of breathless. He was feeling that a lot these days.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy early Christmas/Holidays!  
> I'm sorry it's short, but... there's nothing more left to say, I feel.   
> And if anyone was wondering, Gary is a junior associate for a pretty good law firm - he passed the bar before enlisting - and Simon is studying literature. Though his studies are going a little slow thanks to PTSD and depression. It's okay.


End file.
